How To Save a Life
by Whorphine.Daffodildo
Summary: AU Modern fic; Deidara Iwa has loved Sasori Akasuna for as long as he can remember, but when Sasori leaves without a word, the blonde is devastated, leaving his best friend Kisame to pick up the pieces. When the two meet years later at college, they are forced to consider old feelings. SasoDei, some KisaIta - Yaoi lemons, kink - FULL SUMMARY INSIDE Review!
1. Prologue

**AU modern day fic Sasori/Deidara, Kisame/Itachi - reference to other pairings (Kakuzu/Hidan, maybe others as story progresses); Yaoi, M for lemons, kink(sado-masochism), reference to eating disorder and misuse of prescription drugs, and violence. . .**

** This fic is going to be long-winded, with lots of witty banter and humorous dialogue between the characters, not a total angsty emotion-fest like some of my other fics. Some of it will be third-party POV, some will be Deidara's POV, and some will be Sasori's POV but I will always note which it is, to avoid confusion. **

**Full Summary****; As young children in elementary school Deidara Iwa, Kisame Hoshigaki, and Sasori Akasuna are classmates. Deidara is a happy and outgoing child, loved by his classmates for his magnetic personality, and especially by his self-assured best friend Kisame. His unabashed puppy love crush for the redhead knows no bounds, much to the dismay and embarrassment of the shy Sasori, who has always wanted to blend into the background.**

** This cycle continues through elementary and middle school, Deidara and Kisame becoming inseperable friends who share ideas and secrets, his puppy-love crush having developed into full-on declared adoration. The blonde feels as though through the years he has made decent progress at what he considers his mission in life - picking through the icy wall that makes Sasori so cold and distant. But when the scorpion moves away without saying a word to anyone before their freshman year and ceases all contact, it leaves Deidara depressed and unfulfilled, his social butterfly personality withering into a shell of his former self. Kisame picks up the pieces, restoring the blonde to his former functioning self with great time and effort. **

** Now 7 years later at the age of 22, Kisame and Deidara are about to be sophomores at Konoha University, and are leasing a two-bedroom apartment nearby. Deidara is happy, healthy and functioning alongside Kisame and their other friends. But when Sasori (alongside his sarcastic stepbrother, Itachi) and Deidara are reunited at orientation for the school, they are forced to face memories and regrets both had pushed aside for the sake of self-preservation. Kisame, who has a much harder time being civil to Sasori attempts to put his energy in keeping them apart, but is more than distracted by his budding relationship with Itachi. . . **

** Will Sasori realize his feelings for Deidara, overcome the obstacles and convince the jilted blonde to give him another chance? **

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

"See you tomorrow, Deidara!" A girl with choppy pink hair said shyly, clasping her hands behind her. The bell signaling the end of the school day (and the beginning of a short segment of freedom) had just let out it's shrill howl on a Tuesday afternoon. Unbeknownst to him, her cheeks were colored an unhealthy shade of maroon.

"You too, Sakura." The blonde fourth-grader said distractedly, waving a hand, before snatching up his backpack and bounding out the door. "Hey, Sasori!" He called out, resulting in the short redhead speeding up his gait. Deidara caught him easily, his wiry child's legs taking long strides in the hallway, the other children's pleasant faces passing him as a blur. "Hey, so that test today was a total killer, I can't believe you aced it! You're really smart!" He let the words flow from his mouth just as he had imagined saying them to his classmate on his daydream at his desk when he was supposed to be reading _White Fang_. No biggie - He'd just watch the movie to get caught up.

"I know." Sasori answered, eyeing the excitable boy apprehensively, clutching his notebooks closer. His staggering shyness and social awkwardness made it easy for the other kids to tease him, or brush him off as 'that weird redhead', calling him names or sometimes ignoring him completely, which he considered heaven on Earth. The complex test the teacher had given them that day had stumped every student but Sasori, who had scored an easy 100%. . .

"So maybe next test I'll copy off you, huh?" The blonde joked, poking his arm pointedly, trying to goad a reaction off the bashful scorpion. Sasori didn't answer, only stared hard at his shoes, a light blush creeping over his cheeks, still slightly round with baby fat.

They had reached the front entrance of the school, where parents drove into the lane with their cars for their children to pile happily in the car, chattering about their day. It was a covered patio, shielding the students and attendants from the sun and occasional rain. Sasori tapped his foot impatiently, eyes darting from car to car, waiting for his father's car to appear to save him from this. Why did Deidara, king of the classroom, one of the most popular students in their grade, insist on paying attention to him and try to make him hold a conversation? Why couldn't the blonde be like everyone else and let him fade into the background like he preferred?

He knew for a fact that boys like Deidara Iwa, Kisame Hoshigaki, and Kiba Inuzuka were not really supposed to want to talk to boys like him. Nothing personal, that was just how school (and life) were. It had never occured to him to _want_ friendships or a social life, because those were simply things he had never had. Can't miss something you never had. And although technically the three of them were all in the same social group, or "clique" as he sometimes heard them called, he did prefer Deidara's open and trend-setting personality to Kisame's intimidating brutality or Kiba's conceited snottiness.

Unperturbed by the lack of response, the cheerful student continued. "Anyway, I just wanted to tell you how really cool it was for you to do so well."

"Thanks." Sasori replied, having nothing else to say.

Deidara seemed satisfied with this response, shifting his weight from one clunky sneaker (this season's Nike) to the other. "You should do laps with us in gym instead of by yourself. It's more fun exercising in groups!"

Sasori heaved a quiet sigh, glancing down at himself subconsciously. Deidara had already leaned out, his adolescence quick and merciful, granting him with long limbs and a rangy torso. He was already several inches taller than Sasori, whose body still seemed to be blooming, thick and pudgy with childhood roundness remaining from his younger years. He had only grown an inch since last year, third grade. And just like last year, he was the shortest boy in class much to his own horror and the other boys' glee. And the shorts and tshirts they were forced to wear for gym highlighted it cruelly.

He remembered with brilliant clarity a day when 'changing out' (the term the school used for changing into a p.e. uniform before gym class in the locker room), one of his classmates had pointed out the fact that just like their female counterparts, Sasori's chest was beginning to swell with unfortunately placed fat.

"Look, guys! Akasuna is growing tits bigger than Haruno and Yamanaka!" Kiba had nearly doubled over in laughter at his own deliciously sharp wit, several other students laughing as well. Sasori didn't consider himself as having a sensitive nature, but at that moment in time, he would have welcomed death with open arms and a dull gratitude. In the next moment, all eyes and attention had gone away from him and his jiggly pre-pubescent body, and focused back on Kiba, who emitted a loud cry.

"Ow! What the Hell, Deidara!?" His back hit the steel lockers with a _crack_, but it didn't occur to him to hit back - Not to Deidara Iwa, whose best friend Kisame was the best fighter in the school and whose popularity granted him the ability to disagree or argue with anyone he desired and still come out on top.

"Take that back, what a dickish thing to say!" The blonde chided him. The other boys eyes had widened at Deidara's use of a 'bad word', but did not comment. Things like _that_ were what made him cool in the first place. Kiba had murmured a half-hearted apology and nobody had commented on the scorpion's weight again, but he felt as though he would never forget the feeling of all that laughter and disgust and disdain all directed at him.

"No thanks."

Deidara frowned slightly at this, but shrugged. "Well if you want to, you can. I'll make sure nobody says anything to you." He brushed his shaggy blonde bangs out of his face, having already made the decision, even at this young age, to grow his hair out long like the rock stars he saw on television, much to the exasperation of his mother.

Sasori was more than aware of the fact that he would have gotten teased about three times more than he already did if Deidara hadn't gained the admiration and acceptance of their classmates, and for some vexing reason did not like it when they made fun of the red-headed outcast and was not shy about expressing it. Before Sasori could decide whether to answer this, or continue in silence, Kisame Hoshigaki had sprinted up to them, grinning widely at Deidara.

Deidara supposed he had a crush on Sasori, or was in love with him and that was why it was always the redhead he was thinking of when a love song came on the radio or when he was a movie with two people kissing. Yeah, so stuff like that was supposed to be stupid and only for girls, but he couldn't help how he felt. Not that he would ever tell; He was fairly sure if he told one of his friends they would probably laugh themselves silly. And if he ever told Sasori, he may make mock vomiting noises of disgust, or pretend like nothing had been said at all. He wasn't sure which would be worse, but as brave and uncaring about what people thought as he was, he was not willing to risk finding out.

He was aware of the fact that Sasori was considered 'weird', and 'fat', and a 'freak', but he simply did not care what the other students thought of him, or that he was slightly overweight. When love came before puberty, it came in waves so clear and pure and potent it threatened to smother him. He felt foolish and silly and exalted, all mixed together in a heady brew that he could not even begin to understand but welcomed into his heart with a brash tenacity. The feeling was huge and inarticulate, leaving him feeling joyful yet sometimes, in those rare times, embarrassed and insecure.

"You ran out so fast, Dei, I didn't get a chance to give you. . . _This_!" On the last word, the taller yet male held out a multi-colored bouncy ball between his thumb and index finger.

"Aw yeah, Kisa thank you!" The blonde snatched it instantly, holding it to his chest before giving it a monster bounce on the ground, nimbly catching it in his palm again. "I didn't think Mr. Umino was going to give this back to me after it hit Ino in the head!" He laughed, azure eyes sparkling.

"I took it from that jerk's desk when he wasn't looking." The brunette said proudly, puffing out his chest slightly. Finally seeming to notice Sasori standing there, his smile dimmed slightly, noticably to Sasori but not Deidara, who was preoccupied. "Oh. Hey, _Sasori_." He emphasized the name.

"Hi." The scorpion answered, understanding his place with only a small amount of resentment. He had observed a few times already, Kisame Hoshigaki met hostility with insults and sometimes fists. _Best just to play nice_. Deidara was oblivious of their mutual dislike for one another, and no doubt would have been upset by it. "My dad's here." He whispered, gripping the straps of his plain black backpack tightly before racing off to meet the small car.

"Bye, Sasori!" Deidara called loudly, waving his arm in a wide arc, watching his classmate slam the car door before focusing his attention back on the shark. "What?" The blonde asked loudly, after he turned to observe the brunette's cocked dark brow.

"Nothing." Kisame said lightly, holding his hands palm-out. "Jeez." The blonde continued to stare at him inquiringly. "It's just that I don't really get why you hang out with that freak." He continued carefully, but sugar coating wasn't exactly a specialty for a 10-year-old boy, and especially not for one as blunt as the shark.

"Sasori isn't a freak." Deidara visibly bristled. "He's cool."

"In what way?" He asked incredulously. "He doesn't play sports or do _anything_ cool." To the ultra-active shark (who would, years later, only be able to attend college due to a scholarship in football), playing sports was the epitome of cool. And the quiet bookworm scorpion was _anything_ but good at sports. Not even the dumb games they were forced to play in gym, like dodgeball and four-square.

Deidara frowned, but paused in thought. "I don't know." He lied, feeling his face heat up and hoping it didn't show. "But I think he's cool. So stop making fun of him." He insisted, sulking. Kisame opened his mouth to argue but the blonde's pleading sapphire eyes stopped him.

"Whatever you say." Kisame heaved a sigh, rolling his eyes dramatically to the sky.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

*o*o* Four years later *o*o*

"Everyone needs to have their lab partners by the end of this week." Ms. Yuhi reiterated to the 8th-grade class, glancing around at them. Nearly every pair of eyes was locked on the round wall clock, the seconds agonizingly slow in ticking to the time they were waiting on.

When the bell rang, Sasori closed the book he had been reading with a snap and picked up his backpack from under the wooden desk. Before he could pick up the carefully stacked pile of papers from his desk to carefully slide into his organized bag, Deidara plopped down on his desk, ass and legs effectively crumpling and wrinkling the papers. The redhead pinched the bridge of his nose as if willing away an oncoming headache before glancing up into mischeviously sparkling blue eyes, lined with black makeup.

"Deidara, would you like to be my lab partner?" Both males looked over at one of their female classmates, her platinum blonde hair pulled back in a high ponytail.

"Ino, I already asked him!" Sakura snapped, holding her fists on her hips. "He told me he wasn't sure yet! If anyone is going to be his partner, it will be me!"

Deidara grinned, tossing his mop of bright locks behind him, his stylishly edged bangs falling back into place over one of his eyes. Not that he was interested the least bit in either of them, but it sure was an ego boost. "Actually, ladies. . . " The blonde cleared his throat, pausing for dramatic anticipation, immensely enjoying the way they both leaned forward, hanging on his every syllable. "I want Sasori." He paused again, eyes flicking to the ceiling. "As my lab partner. If he will have me." He ended the last sentence with a questioning tone, cocking his head toward the scorpion.

Sasori didn't really have a choice in this particular matter, considering most of the other boys in their grade thought he was strange and wouldn't want to spend the extended amount of time with him that this project would require, and most of the females hated him solely based on the interest Deidara showed in him. "Fine." He shrugged one shoulder, wincing against the twin choruses of disappointed 'Aww!' . . .

Deidara seemed unfazed, inspecting his fingernails closely, his eyes narrowed as if looking for a miniscule piece of dirt. Sasori sighed, glancing at the clock again. The four of them were the only ones remaining in the classroom, not counting the teacher, who seemed more intent on something she was reading on the computer. "Could you get your ass off my papers? I'd really like to go home now." The redhead requested quietly, glaring when the blonde stretched luxuriously, lifting his arms above his head, his Sex Pistols tshirt lifting with the movement, exposing a strip of his toned stomach before settling back down to the waistband of his tight jeans. Sasori's eyes flickered to the cream-colored flesh unconsciously, making his glare more intense, his cheeks coloring.

Sasori had finally, _finally_, grown a few inches in the last 18 months, his height now nearly mirroring Deidara's, their eyes parallel with one another when standing face-to-face. He had lost a handful of pounds with a half-hearted diet and exercise regime, and the remaining ones were distributed nicely throughout his taller frame, leaving him at a now average size, even some slight muscle definition in certain areas. With a grateful sort of relief that his awkward preteen days seemed to be over, he was slightly more comfortable with the awkward teenager days to come, not that he felt any older. He hoped he would not feel like the chubby outcast picked last for dodgeball for the rest of his life.

"I suppose." He relented with a mock sigh, slipping off the desk with little grace. "So here's my cell number." He scribbled it on the top of a graded exam paper, the bright red _100% _shining like a beacon in the top margin. Sasori folded it in half, effectively hiding the number from the two girls, whose necks had craned with no subtlety, apparently trying with all their might to see and memorize the digits. "Call me tonight and we'll work out the details of the project. It counts for 25% of our grade."

"I know."

"And, I actually need the points." Deidara laughed softly, slinging his bag behind him on one shoulder. "As long as we do well on this, I should finish out this class with a C+."

"I can help you study." Sakura suggested. "I have an A, you know!" She said loudly, silently beaming at Ino's envious growl. Ino was hardly a better student than Deidara, she could provide him with no help in this, and so for this round in the battle of vying for the popular blonde male's attention, Sakura had won.

"Thanks but I'm good." The blonde said kindly, giving the pink-haired girl an amicable smile. "Sasori has the highest grade in class, an A+. So if I need any pointers, I'll just pick them up from him." Sakura frowned and Ino snorted.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Deidara took a deep breath, letting the familar butterflies in the deep, low part of his stomach flutter in anticipation before rapping three staccato raps on the wooden front door of the small and modest Akasuna residence. He heard rustling movement inside and automatically shifted nervously, hooking his thumbs in the front pockets of his jeans.

Sasori opened the door slowly, copper eyes narrowed suspiciously as if he had forgotten about the time the two of them had scheduled to meet and work on their project. This wasn't the first time; It had already been nearly two weeks since the first time Deidara had gone there but each time it was the same. Not paralyzed with nervousness or fear but more than a little uncomfortable with being there. It wasn't often that he worried about looking foolish or saying something stupid, but when he did, it was usually around the scorpion.

Sometimes the redhead's parents were there, sometimes they weren't. Deidara liked it a little better when they weren't solely because Sasori seemed more at ease when they were gone. His mother seemed to be very sick, the father constantly carting her around to doctor's appointments and specialists. The blonde didn't ask for further information on this, since Sasori seemed to tense when it was mentioned.

They had finished their assignment already, miles ahead of the other students in class, the only work remaining were what Deidara had deemed 'final touches', mocking a genuine interest in having a perfect project. Truthfully, he just didn't want all the private time he had shared with the scorpion to end. He had loved Sasori for as long as he could remember, but spending all this time with him and getting to know him even better was like a personal state of bliss for him.

"So how come you don't ever hang out with anyone from school?" They had finished the minimal amount of 'touching up' for that day, and were now lazing on the back lawn in the Akasuna property's privacy-fenced backyard, Sasori leaned against a massive oak tree, Deidara stretched lazily out on his back in the cool grass, hands hooked behind his head.

The air was summer crisp and just a bit chilly, ripe with the promise of autumn coming. The breeze teased the leaves in the tall tree before calming to a stagnant pause. The temperature was perfect for jeans if you were prone to a high body temperature, or a coat if you were prone to a low body temperature.

"Why would I want to? Our school is full of bimbos and idiots." Sasori shrugged, taking a deep drag off the filtered menthol cigarettes that he and Deidara shared lately, before passing it to the blonde. At 14, doing anything that was rebellious or taboo appealed to them, and smoking fell into that category nicely, and was easy to hide.

"Does that mean me, too?" The usually confident blonde's self-esteem faltered a little. He couldn't bear the thought of the scorpion thinking of him in that way. Deidara rolled over onto his stomach, staring at the other boy with a mixture of bemusement and inquiry.

The corner of the redhead's mouth twitched, but he didn't answer, glancing up into the sky, now tinged with pink and orange. "You're like their leader." He took the cigarette gratefully when it was passed back to him.

"That doesn't answer my question." Deidara insisted, pouting, forcing Sasori to notice (not for the first time) that the blonde's lips were unusually full for a male.

"I don't think of you in that way." He relented, pulling his knees up closer to him, in a move that screamed vulnerability and emotional guard.

"How do you think of me?" Deidara asked softly, glancing down at the emerald grass, his fingers plucking at it nervously.

"What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean."

Sasori did know what he meant, of course. He crushed the end of the cigarette on the ground before flicking it away. "I don't know what to say."

In a swift move, the blonde crawled over to the tree, leaning his back against it as well, the sides of their bodies smushed together in a deliberate effort for closeness. Sasori didn't move, but stiffened slightly. "Just say the truth."

"I don't think of you. Or, I try not to, to put it more accurately." Sasori admitted, blushing slightly, which he despised.

"Why do you try not to think of me?" Deidara asked excitedly, not caring that he wasn't acting 'cool' or 'coy'. Unlike the scorpion, guarding his emotions and feelings wasn't something that was always on the forefront of his mind. But when you grew up with ridicule and criticism coming from every side, you became hardened and shielded yourself without even meaning to.

Sasori heaved a sigh, shifting away, attempting to get on his feet. Deidara's hand shot out, gripping his arm. "Answer me." He insisted, his sapphire eyes locked firmly with the redhead's honey copper orbs. Sasori frowned, yanking his arm away in a harsh jerk.

"No." He snapped out, glaring. Why had he even said anything? This was so stupid. He felt embarrassed and idiotic for even having this conversation in the first place. "Just forget it."

In a move full of desperation, pent-up frustration and immaturity, the blonde grabbed his arms again, momentarily stopping the scorpion while he caged him against the tree, knees spread on either side of him. Their faces inches apart, the tips of Deidara's sunshine hair brushing against Sasori's lips and chin, the blonde's thighs and arms on each side of him, apparently hoping to hold him against his will.

"I'm not the out-of-shape kid I used to be." Sasori warned lightly. "Don't make me hurt you, Deidara."

"You already are." Deidara growled, wincing when the redhead gripped his arm like a steel clamp to try to pry him off. "Why won't you just talk to me? You're being ridiculous. You don't have to act like some emotionless big shot all the time!"

"I'm not acting!" Sasori snarled, losing his temper and shoving his classmate hard, the feminine-looking male landing on his rear, hard. "Stop acting like some lovesick idiot! You don't have to feel bad for me just because I got made fun of when we were kids!"

"I'm not acting, either, you clueless moron." Deidara snapped, but the temper had ebbed out of him. _He really thinks I act like this because I feel bad for him? He's so clueless about how incredibly hot he is. . . _"I don't feel bad for you."

"You wanted to be my partner because you knew nobody else would want to be, right?" Sasori asked, eyes narrowed, but his expression had softened slightly.

"You really are an idiot, Sasori." Deidara whispered, heaving a sigh, sitting up on his knees again. "You really don't know why I wanted to be your partner? Why I _always_ want to pair up with you in class?" When the redhead continued to stare at him in question, the blonde inhaled deeply, anxiety causing his pulse to stutter in it's steady throb.

Their lips met for an instant and clung, despite the blonde's intentions to kiss his love for just a moment, wanting to test the waters. After all, Sasori had barely given any indication of interest in him, and even the small amount of suggestion there _had _been was so slight, it was more than possible of just being some figment of Deidara's lovestruck imagination. Tentatively, and with the timidness of two people who had never kissed anyone before, their lips touched again, moving together slowly.

Deidara's suspicions (and hopes) that the redhead _did _harbor romantic (or at least sexual) feelings for him were confirmed when Sasori deepened the kiss, his hands sliding up to lightly grip the sides of the blonde's face, his fingertips twitching in anticipation and uncertainty of where to go next.

They were kneeling, their bodies slightly swaying because of the breeze and because their minds were dizzy, whirling with thoughts of what they were doing.

"Do you understand now?" Deidara panted softly, finally breaking contact and leaning back. His mind swam as fiercely as his bloodstream, his cheeks pink with heat.

"I've. . . Always known that." Sasori said slowly, though even as he said it, he wondered if it was true. Had he known?

Both their heads whipped around, hyper-aware of the foreign noise. It was the front door, all the way on the other side of the house opening and closing. "My father's home." Sasori snapped, shoving Deidara unnecessarily again, the blonde hissing a curse as he landed sorely.

They scrambled to their feet, Deidara smoothing his hair carefully, taking slow, deep breaths to steady his heart rate. He prayed silently the redhead's father wouldn't notice anything was amiss.

His prayers seemed to be answered, because when they walked into the house, all innocent smiles, Mr. Akasuna greeted them with little to no interest, and retreated to his bedroom, mumbling something about Sasori's sick mother staying the night at the hospital. He was apparently just coming home for a change of clothes and heading off again.

The moment ruined now, the two males eyed each other awkwardly. "I should probably go." Deidara admitted, lowering his lashes over his crystalline eyes.

Sasori hesitated, furrowing his brow. "I guess so." He shrugged, as they watched his father go out the door again, giving a small wave as a goodbye. "You could stay, if you wanted. . . For a little while."

Deidara's eyes flew back up from their gaze on the floor. "Really?" He asked, running his hand through his glossy, well-kept hair in a nervous habit that would stay with him well into adulthood.

"If you want." The scorpion shrugged, feigning disregard and casualness. He was blushing again, an unbearably annoying (and as far as he was concered, feminine and submissive, which he did not consider himself in the least) habit that he despised with every fiber of his being, but that would also follow him into adulthood. One could not help their bodily functions, no matter how obvious it made you, or how you hated it.

Their eyes met and stayed together until the blonde's small, even teeth showed in a dazzlingly handsome grin.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Their project (which had been based around ancient weaponry and how modern weapons had evolved from them; For example, today's brass knuckles were inspired by an ancient Roman battle glove, a cestus), needless to say, had gotten a perfect score and Deidara had breezed through by the skin of his teeth, scoring a B- as his final grade for the year.

The remainder of the school year came and went in a flash of secret meetings and desperate, urgent kisses and promises and feelings, none of which were public knowledge to anyone but Sasori, Deidara, and Kisame, who the blonde could have no more easily kept a secret from than God. The blunt and good-natured shark was his best friend, his confidante, and his advisor and although Kisa did not care for the redhead in the least, he was genuinely glad to see his best friend so blissfully in love. Deidara had loved the calm and guarded male for as long as the shark could remember. . .

When the next school year started, they entered as anxious freshman, clinging to the familiarity of each other, like the eye in a hurricane. Deidara faced it all with a boldness and tenacity that none of their other friends recognized, only Kisame, who had nursed him back from the depths of despair and despondency only months before with an unmatched loyalty that nobody but the two of them would ever know. When Deidara had been nothing but a heartbroken teenager, his beautiful blue eyes hauned and empty, his parents and other friends had not noticed and had not been there to pick up each shattered piece and restore it to it's shining originality.

And when his body weight dropped dangerously low, his arms and thighs like spindly twigs, his torso showcasing his protruding ribs like a trophy, his health became the brunette's sole focus in life. For reasons he could not (and maybe would never) understand, he loved Deidara with all his heart (with the unquestioned fierceness that only came from two children and grew as they did) and protecting him, 'fixing' him, being his 'partner in crime', giving him advice and taking advice from him as well was just second nature to Kisame.

His heart had been so utterly broken by Sasori's leaving, that the will to continue with life and normalcy held no appeal for the blonde. The thought of going back to school, when he knew the redhead would not be there, seemed a fate worse than death. Even now, after all Kisame's effort and amateur therapy, he knew he would never truly be happy again, but he would be content, with a heart-wrenching defiance.

When someone asked about Sasori Akasuna (and it happened often; hated as he might have been, he was _known_ by the other students well enough), his breath hitched and his chest panged, but Kisa's hand would touch his shoulder or arm reassuringly, and the pain would dull as if he had taken a pain-repressing medication. Nobody noticed this, as the two of them had wanted. Deidara couldn't bear for anyone else to know his heart was gone, his will for life and love demolished as easily as dried leaves crumbling to dust.

The last time they spoke of it, was a cool night not unlike the one when Deidara had his first kiss with the scorpion, the breeze sometimes a gentle caress, sometimes a sharp ribbon of frigidity. It had been 3 years, nearly exactly, and the last shred of the blonde's hope that Sasori would come back had died quietly long ago, like the last smoldering ember of a campfire. He had not mourned it, and did not think of it often. But on cold nights like this, when it was just the two of them, the memories came back like a reel of stillshots in his mind.

The city park was empty at this hour of the night, the only sounds the rustling of running squirells and other nocturnal creatures. The two of them sat on the tall brick wall that separated the two sections of the park, Deidara swinging his legs idly to a steady rhythm he was not aware of.

They were Juniors now, feeling on top of the world. They were beloved by their classmates, lusted after by both males and females, envied by both as well. Even their teachers seemed to have an affinity for them, giving them lenience and allowances on their grades. Deidara was student class president, Kisame an invaluable player on the school's football team even just as a Junior.

"He never even told me he was leaving." He commented softly, his breath showing in the night air. He shivered a little, rubbing his arms lightly and immediately felt Kisame's arms come around him, wrapping him in a jacket. The letterman jacket that he was so prideful of, earning his spot as a running back on the school's football team with his impressive size and skill at the sport, relishing each victory. He loved the sport, and loved his position on the team, and at the school. They both did. "Thank you, Kisa." He mumbled gratefully.

Popularity for them was never _fully_ appreciated, because they had never known anything else. Their outgoing and charismatic personalities had earned them that much, served them usefully, as social status was so important in high school. Just as how their relationship was never _fully_ understood by their peers, some assuming that they had casual sex or even possibly a secretive romantic relationship, but that was just simply not the case. Their love for each other was completely unadulterated, like that of brothers.

"Do you still miss him?" Kisame asked quietly, tilting his head in question, his miniscule brown eyes searching for a sign of hurt on his companion's face, watching as his classmate put his slender appendages through the arms of the jacket, sizes and sizes too large for him, but warming him considerably.

"Sometimes." He admitted, peering back at him through bright bangs. "I'm so stupid." He smiled serenely, his eyes cloudy with sadness. Serenity and introspection were not exactly common for Deidara; He was by no means an idiot but intelligence was not exactly a trait he boasted. He wasn't wise, and he wasn't level-headed, and that was okay with him, but when it came to these matters, Kisame sometimes felt like he was seeing a different person behind those azure eyes.

"Not stupid." The shark corrected him. He could tell when it weighed most heavily on the blonde, but when he was with honest with himself, had to concede that he did not know what heartbreak was like, since he had never experienced being in love.

"Silly, then." He reiterated, shaking his head. "I guess I just always thought he would be there. He always _was_ there. . ." He trailed off, sighing, and let his head rest on the larger male's shoulder, his lengthy, blonde locks flowing down the brunette's chest. "No wonder my relationships always fail." He laughed a little, wistfully, referring to the handful of boyfriends he had over the years, short flings or sweet little romances that had all ended amicably, all merely lacking what Deidara had needed most.

"Sasori may not have as much to do with that as you think." Kisame said, laughing lowly. "Yours have been more successful than mine!" Some of the shark's had not ended on such friendly terms, but he took it all in stride, cheerful and positive by nature, never one to mope or whine.

"Maybe we're both destined to be alone." Deidara mused, but the sadness was gone from his voice. He too was positive by nature, despite the circumstances.

"Not alone." Kisa disagreed, grinning. "You'll never be alone, not as long as I'm here."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

**So that's the prologue, the next chapter will begin the actual story with them at the age of 22 as sophomores at college. I love the aspects of this story, and Deidara and Kisame's relationship is one of my favorite parts. And yes, I know it's a farfetched stretch for Deidara to be student class president in high school as a rocker who wears eyeliner but it's for the purpose of the plot, deal with it, stranger stuff than this happens in fanfiction!**

** Also, I was vague on the details of what Deidara goes through as far as his depression on purpose, you will find out details as the story progresses(:**

** I'm really excited about this fic, and I can't wait to continue it. Please review, it's important to me to get feedback on this! And if I feel like nobody's reading this, I won't have a reason to continue it!**


	2. Chapter 1

**Thanks for the great reviews everyone, I'm glad maybe someone other than me will get enjoyment from this! Also, I feel the need to preface this by saying that like in my other fics, almost everyone will be gay. Not because I believe everyone or mostly everyone is secretly gay or anything political like that, simply because this is a yaoi fanfiction and the couples are male/male and I'm not addressing the 'coming out to my family and friends' issues or anything like that. Maybe one day, but not today. So, yes the homo to hetero ratio is waaay off, but don't get all anal-retentive (lol) about it, it's just a fanfic(: **

** Also just as a note - I'm fairly confident in my skill as a writer and I hate when people say stuff like "Be nice, this is my first fic!" but this is my first time writing in something other than third-person pov so if it seems weird or wrong, just let me know and I will try to keep an eye on it.**

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

*-* Deidara's Point of View *-*

The strangest thoughts always come to me when I'm half asleep, like right before going to bed or when I first wake up, eyes still gritty with sleep. I always wake up slowly, lingering still in whatever dream I was having and in the real world, taking awhile to get adjusted.

I'm not exactly introspective, but I guess everyone has weird ideas sometimes. Usually I jot these musings down in a little notepad I keep by my bed, and share them with my twice-weekly therapist, Tsunade. And sometimes she tells me what she thinks they mean, and sometimes she just frowns and writes them down herself. And _that_ makes me feel like a psycho (Like, let's make sure to put this stuff on the record if we ever have to testify against him when he becomes a serial killer). And after 3 years of being her patient, I understand the true purpose of her job. To make me realize what a psycho I am. At least my insurance pays for it. And my brain is sporatic and nervous, jumping from thought to thought like an ADD child. It didn't used to be like this and I'm great at hiding it from everyone else.

What I mean by that is, although my thoughts are always jumping around from subject to subject, I'm not always running off at the mouth like a weirdo. I am friendly and outgoing, but I somehow manage to fake being cool and collected. . . Most of the time. If I said everything that was on my mind, I don't think people would like me so much or envy my personality. They would probably just Baker Act me.

I squint my eyes against the sun flooding through my bedroom window, illuminating the unorganized mess. I just moved in here a few days ago, and although I haven't had much to do, I really haven't unpacked much. It's so annoying to put things where they go when I know it's all going to end up looking like crap anyway.

I'm no good at keeping things neat and tidy and my roommate isn't really either so our house usually looks just like what it is; A humble two-bedroom apartment inhabitated by two young, single male adults. Which is fine with us, but the few female friends we have usually don't appreciate it very much. In fact the last time our friend Ino visited our previous place, she broke out the garbage bags and meager cleaning supplies like the empty soda cans and empty cigarette packs were just too much for her to take. We weren't offended, though. We're hoping she'll come to the new place soon and give it a good scrub-down.

Swinging my legs off my bed, I pull a pair of day-old jeans on and tie my thick mass of blonde locks back with a plain black tie. A food smell is coming from the kitchen but Kisame must have gone out and bought something, because we both know he has a higher chance of burning the place down than actually making an edible breakfast. I'm not a great chef, but he takes culinary ineptitude to new heights.

When I walk into our small and fully functionable but rarely used kitchen, I'm not surprised to find breakfast in take-out boxes littering the table and my roommate and best friend, Kisame Hoshigaki sitting in one of our chairs, elbow propped on his knee, lifting a solidly thick hand weight, murmuring count under his breath.

Kisame and I are pretty opposite in looks - He's tall and broad-shouldered with muscles rippling his torso and arms with short brown hair and brown eyes that seem to be eternally squinting but I happen to know his vision is pretty great so what's up with that? I'm kind of short and small with way too much blonde hair and bush baby sized blue eyes. If you don't know what a bush baby is, go ahead and Google it and you'll see what I mean. Anyway, I kind of like them even if they're strange so I accent them with eyeliner every day. They say you're always biased when judging yourself or someone you love, but I guess neither of us are slouches in the looks department because we're never really short on potential dates/boyfriends/hook-ups.

Not that I get around a lot. It's just kind of comforting to know that if I ever suddenly one day want to have meaningless sex, I have options. Kisa, however, has a pretty high sex drive and has no qualms about random hook-ups. It's not unusual for me to come home and hear sex noises coming from his bedroom. This is also how I found out that apparently he is hung like a horse which is gross to think about but I have heard enough different guys moaning/screaming it and it's not hard to believe, considering his hands and feet are enormous. And when I mentioned to him that it was awkward when his lovers described everything they were doing out loud, he just got this huge grin and shrugged like he was proud. I didn't really want to know that much info, but we have a few unspoken rules here - One of them is don't cockblock. Meaning if one of us is getting laid the other one can't knock on the door, yell from the other room or do anything generally interruptive or mood-killing.

I think this rule was mostly invented towards me, because like I said, he's all about the sex and I barely have it. This is not on purpose, I've just never been that much into sex. Sounds stupid but there you have it. I mean, it's pretty good on occasion but I don't think I could do it every day, if that makes sense. Like ice cream. Plus, unlike him, it's awkward for me to hang out in a platonic way with a guy who I've gotten fucked by. Like, hey how have you been lately? Remember when your dick was up my ass? Yeah.

"Isn't it a little early to be working out?" I ask him, but he doesn't answer because he doesn't like to lose count when he's doing reps. Plus, we both know this was a stupid question since any time is the right time for working out in his opinion. I spoon a tiny amount of eggs onto my plate, along with a strip of bacon and half a piece of buttered toast.

"100." He finishes, putting the weight down on the floor with a satisfactory grin. The grin quickly fades when he glances at my plate. "Is that all you're eating?" He asks me. I don't want to answer but worry is evident on his face and I feel guilty because I know he's thinking of _those _times.

"I'll eat a big lunch." I assure him and give him one of my 'pretty smiles', usually reserved for when I want something that someone else has, which I hope is convincing. When he continues to stare at me, concern furrowing his brow, I inwardly sigh and take another small strip of bacon from the box, sticking the whole thing in my mouth and chewing it quickly. He seems to accept this and gives me a positive look. Great. I know if I don't cooperate, he'll drag me into the bathroom and make me stand on the scale while he watches. I'm not kidding, he does that when he starts to get suspicious of me. And if my weight is leaning towards dropping below the triple digits (which does happen every once in awhile), the next day I will find our cupboards filled with donuts and twinkies and candy bars.

"Are you going to orientation today?" I ask him, mostly to change the subject. It works, because Kisame has kind of a one-track mind. I don't like to support stereotypes and they are _always _exaggerated, but they usually have some amount of truth in them. Like the fact that I'm a natural blonde, and I'm not ashamed to admit, I'm clumsy and kind of a ditz. And the fact that Kisa is a jock, so he's not exactly a genius and he does lose his temper maybe a little too easily sometimes. He _is_ slightly judgemental when it comes to people he considers to be 'weird' or 'different' but he doesn't mean anything by it, and he always comes around after getting over his initial middle-class shock. But I wouldn't change him for anything, he's legitimately my favorite person in the world.

"What for?" He scoffs. "We're not freshmen this year."

"I don't know." I shrug, taking a sip of cold milk. "I just thought I'd get a map and maybe a list of school holidays and stuff. I'm not entirely sure where a few of my classes this year are. Kakuzu and Hidan are going." I add, referring to two of our good friends, who happened to be dorm-mates with us the previous school year and ended up dating. They're really good together, even though both of them are far from what anyone would call romantic. I guess that's why they work, even though they argue constantly even before they started dating.

"Well, I guess I don't have anything better to do." He said cheerfully, popping a link of sausage in his mouth.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

*-* Sasori's Point of View *-*

After pulling my car into a parking spot somewhat close to the school, I exhale my breath and sit back, not yet taking the key out of the ignition. I just want to sit in the air-conditioning and relax before I do what I hate most; Interact with other people.

I glance over at my passenger, my stepbrother, Itachi. His mother married my father a few years ago, after my mother died when I was 14, right before I started high school. He looks equally unexcited about this, but he always has an air of boredom about him, which works just fine for me. Neither of us are big on socializing so it was kind of rocky when we first met and were suddenly forced into hanging out all the time just because his widow mom and my widower dad decided to hook up.

Although my mother had been sick for practically as long as I can remember, it seemed to be a huge shock to my father when she finally did pass. He freaked, packed up our house, and yanked me up a few states to his hometown, without even asking me if it was fine. I'm not bitter or complaining, it was just kind of jarring to come home one day with all my stuff in a moving truck. But I can somewhat understand, he had just watched the person he had planned on spending the rest of his life with die. And I suppose I'm a constant reminder of this, since she birthed me. Don't get me wrong, I was sad when she died. Although I'm not an emotional person, she _was_ my mother. But better for her to have peace in death than pain in life.

So when he married Mikoto Uchiha (Now Mikoto Akasuna), I was glad. She's a pretty alright lady, quiet and everything. She didn't nag me, at least. She had two sons, Itachi and his younger brother, Sasuke. Sasuke is a little entitled and spoiled for my taste, but he could be worse. Anyway, Sasuke's boyfriend (talk about annoying; this kid was like a hyperactive blonde tornado, destroying everything in it's path) and him moved out recently, which just left them and Itachi and I. We felt a little awkward and in the way now, and decided to give them a peaceful retirement by moving out as well. Without much planning or purpose, we ended up settling for Konoha, the town I'm originally from because it has a great school and I'm already somewhat familiar with the area.

Being back in my hometown didn't give me a sense of nostalgia as I'd hoped, but how could it? My childhood was terrible. I was the fat kid in class, and got bullied constantly, even after I slimmed down. I assume I was penalized before reading above a fourth-grade level, but I guess I'll never know.

Itachi let me stew in my own thoughts for a few minutes before reaching across me and twisting the key, shutting off the car. "I want to go home and unpack." He informed me.

"This should only take a few minutes." I assure him. "We're just taking a quick look around and maybe grabbing a map or something." Itachi is going to school for Business Administration and Management. I guess he wants to be a CEO or something of a big corporation, which seems a good fit for him. I'm no good with supervising other people, I like to focus on just myself and what I'm doing. I plan on getting a degree in Art Conservation not because it's mandatory for what I want to be, but because I feel more passionate about conserving beautiful art than anything else I have ever known. What I really want more than anything is to own a museum or an art gallery, but this is a stretch and a far-off dream but no harm in having a long-term goal, right?

When we enter the building, I immediately feel the all-too-familiar sense of dread in my stomach that I always feel when surrounded by a throng of people my own age. With this in mind, I glance over at Itachi and feel a little comforted by the sour look he shoots me, obviously referring to the loud students. Itachi doesn't take kindly to _these_ kind of people anyway, with their designer jeans and polos and in-season sneakers. He's wearing black jeans that have holes in the knees (not because he bought them that way but because he has had them for as long as I've known him), a black t-shirt with a logo for the band Rush and his glasses (his eyesight is so terrible he's practically blind when he isn't wearing them) are thick and black-rimmed.

He's extremely attractive and maybe I shouldn't say this but we both know that if we weren't stepbrothers we would probably date, or at least go on _a_ date because we have so much in common and I'm not half bad-looking, I guess. Don't get me wrong, I'm not lusting after him, I'm just saying he looks amazing and he knows it, too. And so do most other guys, apparently, because he gets hit on all the time and usually sends whoever had the nerve to flirt with him scurrying away with their figurative tail between their legs.

Trying to focus on him to fight off my anxiety, I run my hand through my messy red hair, mussing it even more than normal, and decide to shove my hands in the pockets of my hoodie instead. On the outside I'm an emotionless mask looking cool as a cucumber but on the inside, I'm a neurotic mess as usual. _Just_ _grab a map, take a look around and get the Hell out of there_, my mind commanded me. If I couldn't even handle being there now for orientation, how was I ever going to be okay with actually attending?

"Are you alright?" Itachi asked me cooly, a slight smirk on his face. His arrogance allows him the luxury of almost never being nervous, something I'm more than envious of but would never admit out loud.

"Fine." I say gruffly, clearing my throat. I can tell he knows I'm full of shit by the way he cocks his dark eyebrow and then subsequently tries to distract me with conversation.

"Can you honestly be intimidated by all these yuppies?" He asked with more than a note of superiority on his voice. Yuppie is the word Itachi uses for rich, spoiled kids that live off mommy and daddy's money until they get a cushy office job, get married, and end up buying a minivan. It's **Y**oung **U**pwardly-mobile **P**eople.

"I guess not." I relent, but my hands are clenched into fists in the pockets of my jacket. He glances around us, then grabs my shoulder, twisting me to look at whatever he's looking at. "Look at them, they're pathetic."

It's apparently a couple, but their backs are to us so all I can tell is it's a small blonde male with impossibly long hair half-heartedly tied back and jeans so tight they fit him like a second skin with a tall and muscular football player.

"The blonde has a great ass." I can't help but say out loud, which is followed by Itachi's snort.

"Obviously. He shows it off like it's his best feature. And his boyfriend looks like he take a steroid shot for breakfast, lunch, and dinner."

"Oh, come on." I smile a little, getting into it. "Maybe you could distract the Incredible Hulk and I could get a better view without getting crushed." I joke. He was great at distracting me from my staggering social anxiety, but I guess he gets a lot of practice since we hang out with each other more than anyone else and we just moved in together.

"Please." He rolls his eyes up to the ceiling. "He's wearing a letterman jacket. _Gross._"

And I laugh and start to say something else, but before I can, every thought is wiped from my mind like a clean chalkboard. My hands break out in a cold sweat, and I can't seem to form any words.

The blonde happens to turn, clutching a pamphlet in his hand, probably a map. He's laughing at a joke the larger male told him, and his dazzling blue eyes are lit up like the sky. His skin was like alabastor, his features carved delicately. He sees me moments after I see him but as I'm paralyzed, his breathtaking smile disappears as if it had never been there.

"Sasori?" He asks, obviously without meaning to, and the male beside him, who I had previously thought was his boyfriend turns as well. Kisame Hoshigaki has grown into an intimidating monster, but that doesn't surprise me much.

I can't talk, but my feet start walking toward them and I can't stop them, and Itachi is following close behind. My eyes are glued on him, and I try to think of what to say when I get there, but nothing comes.

Deidara Iwa is the only memory I have from this town that doesn't suck. I had entertained more than a few fantasies with him as the co-star but somehow I just knew it wouldn't stick. You see, Deidara was the most popular boy in our grade, and I was the outcast loser who nobody wanted on their team in gym class. But then in middle school, he got this wildly rebellious streak and decided he wanted to have a torrid little affair with the school outcast. Maybe to piss off mommy and daddy, or maybe because under all that glamour and charisma he really does have a rebel's heart.

At any rate, I admittedly got a little too attached to him, and for awhile I actually thought maybe we could. . . You know. Date, have a relationship. But that was before the harsh sting of reality set in, reminding me that although we weren't in the medieval times, for all intents and purposes, he was a prince and I was a serf. Not to mention, I don't really _do_ relationships. Never have, never will. Relationships involve constant social interaction, and that honestly sounds like a nightmare. Admitting all your feelings, possible rejection, being completely vulnerable. No thanks. Plus, best case scenario for a successful relationship? You fall in love and spend the rest of your lives together then one of you dies and the other has to watch, then live without you. I'd rather just stay alone.

And then when my mom died, and my dad dragged me off without warning, I knew it was a good thing for him, too. Now maybe with me out of the equation he could have a normal relationship and normal life, without having to watch my back all the time.

Seeing him like this, after the transition from child to adult had added polished layers of beauty to him, sliced me into a thousand pieces.

"I can't believe you're here." He says, eyes wide. His voice is just a few degrees deeper than it had been once upon a time, but silkier and somehow softer. Or maybe just because he's feeling the same way I am; Shocked and unsure of what to do or say. Part of me wishes he had never turned around and Itachi and I had kept walking but another part of me knows this was an inevitability since moving back to this town. Of course he wouldn't leave, he had always loved it here. It's easy to love where you live when everyone loves you.

"Deidara. You look . . ." I don't finish _that_ sentence because I don't want to say what he looks like, and Kisame is giving me a death glare. Maybe they _are_ together, romantically. I suppose it would make sense, but I just never saw it coming. Itachi's eyebrow perks up again because he recognizes the name from the stories I have told him about the blonde and when I was younger and he's obviously not sure of what to say either. "This is my stepbrother, Itachi." I gesture to him weakly.

"Stepbrother?" Deidara asks. "Did your parents get divorced?"

"My mother died." I answer and watch his eyes lower in apology.

"Nice to meet you." He says sheepishly, sticking his hand out to Itachi who stares at it for a moment before taking it. But I can tell he doesn't want to. "I'm. . . An old friend of Sasori's." He says, glancing at me for affirmation. And what can I say? I guess we are old friends.

But it's more than obvious by the palpable tension that we all know the truth and Deidara looks more beautiful than ever and Kisame looks more terrifying than ever and I'm feeling more nauseous than ever.

"Are you enrolled in the school?" Kisame asks us, and Itachi frowns and I can tell he thinks the shark is an idiot.

"We are at orientation for the semester." He says slowly, the condescending look on his face more than obvious.

Kisame scowls, baring his pointed teeth at us. "You don't have to be an asshole, I was just asking a question." And then he looks me straight in the face, and the words don't need to be said. _You two don't belong here._

Regardless of that, Deidara plasters what I can only assume is a forced smile and invites us to he and Kisame's apartment, which sounds as appealing to me as having dinner with rabid dogs but I don't know how to decline without it being even more awkward than it already is and before I know it, he's scribbling their address on a piece of paper and pushing it into my sweaty hands, much to Kisame and Itachi's displeasure. And as emotionally masochistic as it sounds, I do want to see more of him.

Before they leave, Kisame walks up to me so we are inches apart, illustrating that he is more than a head taller than me and twice as built. "So you're still a ginger midget. Nice to know some things never change."

And being face-to-face with one of my schoolyard bullies still sends chills up my spine. And Deidara is still too good for me. And I'm still just an anti-social loser compared to them both of them.

Sometimes, its _not_ nice to know that some things never change.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

**Okay, I tried to make their thought processes match their personalities. Explosive for Deidara, and cynical for Sasori but we'll see how it turns out. Review! No more chapters until I get into the double digits(: **


	3. Chapter 2

**Alright, so I just wanted to say thanks again for reading my stories and leaving reviews, it really fuels me as a writer and a person. BUT, also I wanted to say I am apologizing in advance if I'm slow posting new chapters because aside from having a full time job, my boyfriend and I just applied for a really nice apartment together (yesssss), AND I just sent in an application to adopt a rescue dachsund. She got abandoned by her old owners and now she's going to be ours. And I'm learning Japanese, so I'm studying two or three hours a night on that. I'm doing Rosetta Stone as far as speaking/hearing/reading but then I've also got a website I use to learn the Katakana and Hiragana so I can write also. I'm really excited, I've wanted to learn Japanese forever and I'm making great progress! . . . Wow, I just turned the first part of this page into a blog about me. Conceited much? :/ Aaaanyway, here's some angsty emotional gay bullshit. Enjoy(: **

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

*-* Deidara's Point of View *-*

What did I do to deserve this? What the Hell's wrong with me? Why am I punishing myself? When did I turn into such a sniveling, emotional pussy? What should I do?

This isn't a pathetic inner monologue; These are the questions I'm asking Tsunade as I'm laying on the comfy caramel-colored couch in my therapist's office. Because, really, talking to Tsunade is like talking to myself but every once in awhile, I actually get some helpful feedback or advice. Today she just stares at me calmly and lets me gets everything off my chest. I called her immediately after seeing him and asked if I could come in, as an emergency. I have done this a few times in our history together, and she is always very flexible with me. I guess she doesn't want me to hurt myself.

Not that I ever tried to kill myself or anything, but I guess I'm always a risk, right? Why would I hurt myself when I already feel like I'm being torn apart from the inside out?

I am aware of the fact that probably nobody, not even Kisame, really understands how I feel about the whole thing. I know what it must seem like to outsiders, I'm not an idiot. We weren't even dating, and I was so pathetically crushed when he left that I could hardly function. But maybe that's why it hurt so much. We _weren't_ dating. Other people dated and it was meaningless and shallow and fun. We had more, so much more than that. At least, I thought we did. When I was with Sasori, I felt like I could be myself and everything else I had ever wanted. I didn't have to pretend or keep up my peppy and enchanting facade in front of him. And because he is everything I ever loved in a guy, all of _his_ traits and _his_ personality and _his_ mannerisms are what I looked for in all the guys I dated after, but could never find. That's something else so tragic. Even if (when) I get over him, I still won't be happy with another man because I'll keep comparing them. I'm basically doomed to either a life of eternal solitude or settling for a guy I have half-ass feelings for and am always comparing to my childhood crush.

"And I couldn't stop myself. And so I just wrote it down and like forced it on him and didn't give him a chance to say no." I sigh, biting down on my lower lip to keep myself from crying. I mean, I know she's my therapist but I guess I have too much pride for that. Because when I feel the heat in my eyes and the knot in my throat I bite until it almost breaks the skin to distract me from it.

"Why did you do it, then?" She asks in her patient tone.

"Because I want to see him. I miss him." I reply quickly. That doesn't take a lot of thought. I have missed him since the day he left. I miss his cynicism, his bitter negativity, the way he scowls when I laugh. I miss the way his face looks when he realizes I love something about him that he hates about himself and assumed everyone else hated too.

I remember when it first started, out by the big tree in his backyard. I kissed him first, but that night, after his dad left and we were all alone, he was kissing me like he wanted to eat me alive, starting with my mouth. We made out for hours, our lips sore and swollen afterwards and so hard it hurt, but too scared to do anything else. All these sexual feelings were brand new to us, and I remember being shocked at how strong it felt. Although to be honest, since then, I've never felt such intense sexual chemistry. Maybe that's why I don't have sex very often; Sasori spoiled me for anyone else. Great, mark one more thing off the list of why I'm not normal.

"You miss the 14-year-old Sasori." She reminds me gently. "He's 22 now. He could be a completely different person. Are you prepared for that?" I _hadn't_ thought of that. I don't answer her, but my facial expression obviously gives me away. And the thought makes me even more upset. "Don't you think you are different than when you were 14?"

"A little." I shrug. But not really. I'm more educated, maybe. But a completely different person? I don't think so.

But am I more educated, really? The biggest thing going on in my little world right now is centered around something that happened 7 years ago. Maybe I'm still the same stupid love-struck kid. And if that's not a depressing thought, then I don't know what is. I feel like someone who thought they were over their alcohol addiction until years later someone pours them a glass of wine and then they end up drinking a bottle of hard whiskey. And then they realize all their hard work and all their mental anguish meant nothing and they are still the same hopeless loser they were before.

But I hate all this. I hate being depressed and sad and despondent. I'm an upbeat person most of the time (I promise). And _that _side of me, the sassy and upbeat side, is the side I need to portray to Sasori. Because if he even catches a tiny hint of the depression I had when he left, I can never look him in the eyes again. If he suspects even the tiniest iota that my heart was bleeding on the floor in his absence, then I have nothing left to live for. So I'll do what I do best; Pretend to be happy. And I'll leave him with the image of a sexy young adult, instead of a weak, weeping wimp. Maybe I have too much pride, but it's all I have left and I nearly lost even that. If Kisame hadn't been there for me, I know I would have. I can never truly pay him back for what he's done for me, but we both know I don't have to.

Sometimes I want him to know what it's like to be in love, _truly in love, _so he could relate. But I could never wish heartbreak on him. And maybe, after seeing what I went through, that's why he has never really had a 'serious' relationship. A few flings here and there, lots of fucking for sure, but nothing ever really substantial. And it would be nice to relate to him, but on the same note, I want him to be in love just for the pure joy of it. I sometimes imagine me and the person I will end up with, and Kisa and the person he will end up with all living together with day-to-day life and issues like a television sitcom. Unfortunately, for the life of me, when I have these fantasies in my head, I can't even begin to imagine what sort of guy he will end up with. . . I hope he's sweet and caring and loves Kisa more than anything, because he deserves it.

For the record, I think I deserve it too. I'm not playing some martyr, thinking that I don't deserve love and that I'm not good enough or anything like that. I know I'm good enough, and I know I deserve it, it's just that the only man I ever loved doesn't want me in that way. I mean, I basically fell to my knees at his feet and he tossed me aside like I was nothing. That's not exactly a subtle hint that he wasn't really as in to me as I was in to him. And, I mean, it happens, you know? And as many books and movies and songs and poems as there are about unrequited love, it's impossible for me to believe that I'm the only one who feels this way.

As I'm leaving the office and walking throught the corridor to the exit, there are paintings and inspirational pictures spaced tastefully apart on the flat beige walls. Oddly, they do always succeed in making me feel slightly more tranquil. I guess that's what they are for. I have a mental image of myself in a straightjacket in a padded room staring at all those paintings and pictures and feeling content.

"Are you leaving, Deidara?" The pretty girl behind the receptionist desk asks me, and I idly wonder if she's related to Tsunade because they look a little alike. She's new though, so I have to glance at her name to see who she is (_Temari) _and I see a paper in front of her which apparently is a file on me that Tsunade is having her update.

I don't answer her, but I walk up to the desk and scribble my signature on the 'out' list as is protocol for when your appointment is over. She seems a little bothered by this, because she keeps talking to me and although I've never felt less like having idle conversation, my impeccable manners and grace force me to talk back to her.

"Is everything okay?" She asks me pleasantly, leaning forward.

"Fine."

"You look a little rough." Well, maybe she isn't as nice as I thought. But nevertheless, she's a female and females, for me, are easy to coerce in terms of just letting things go or convincing them of something. So I give her a sheepish grin which will undoubtedly appear vulnerable and boyish to her.

"Sorry, I'm just getting over a head cold. I don't look _too_ awful, do I?" She looks slightly taken aback and guilty at her proclamation and quickly shakes her head.

"No, you look fine, sorry. Just a little pale, maybe."

I thank her and retreat with a solid victory. I wish manipulating people was a career so I wouldn't have to work where I am actually employed - Yamanaka Flower Shop. It's owned by Ino's family, and I actually kind of like it. I'm really great with the flower arranging, even better than Ino herself, and the family was more than happy to give me a part-time job there. And I actually _do_ like it, I'm kind of artsy and creative so it's a good outlet for me. And it's not too demanding or stressful except on holidays like Valentine's Day.

I'm on my way out of the door, and although I usually walk home (It's only about a 25 minute walk), Kisame's car is predictably parked right in front. Today of all days, of course, he wouldn't really want me to be alone with just my thoughts. When he sees me stumble out of the building, he starts the car and waits for me to get in. I walk to it in a daze and plop down in the passenger seat. He doesn't say anything as I strap the seatbelt across my chest, or on the way home, or on the way up the stairs to our apartment. It's cheaper to live on the 2nd story rather than the first, and although it is a total pain in the ass to bring groceries up, neither of us mind the exercise. Except when I'm tipsy or drunk. Which doesn't happen a lot. Alcohol is like liquid cheeseburgers in terms of calories and fat.

The silence is deafening, and I can feel intensity pouring off him in waves. He has never liked Sasori, and I guess after all these years I finally understand why. Because being in love with the scorpion makes me into a worse person. But we're men, not women, so we don't always need to talk about our feelings and emotions. Only sometimes.

We sit in the living room, me on our long couch, and he in the cushy armchair. And he stares at me with his dark eyes, hands folded across his lap, and I stare back at him unblinkingly. And this time when the tears come, I don't bite my lip. I just bury my face in my knees and let him put his arms around me and let them come until they're streaming down my face and making little wet spots on my jeans until there's nothing left in me.

When I'm finally done and out of tears, I scrub my face clean, and reapply my dark eye makeup. Kisame halfheartedly engages me in some conversation about a television show we both watch. I have nothing better to do but wait for them to show up.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

*-* Sasori's Point of View *-*

After we grab a map, we leave, without going into a single other building or classroom. We don't even talk to anyone else or look them in the eye. Itachi knows me well enough to know that I'm close to having an anxiety attack or just completely freaking out or making a complete idiot out of myself so he makes a hasty excuse (Let it never have gone without being said that he is a quick thinker and God bless him for that) for us to leave, and we hit the road like we were being chased. I _was_ being chased. Chased by feelings I thought had faded away years ago. I wonder what he would think if he knew? He'd probably think it was cute (Oh, the horror) that I still think about how we were in middle school. And for that reason, I don't think I'll be going into any confessions anytime soon.

Not to mention I don't want every bone in my body broken by his bulky, towering shadow. I still can't decide if they are romantically together or not. I guess at this point in life it doesn't really matter except when I think about them, Kisame with his enormous hands and imposing stature, and Deidara with his compact little body and his pretty mouth in bed together I want to puke. But then again, thinking about him in bed with anyone gives me a rather dreadful feeling in my stomach. I try to think back to when we were all together to remember any hints or clues as to whether Kisame wanted to date him, and (with a perverse sense of relief) I can't come up with anything, although I do remember the rumors that floated around the school about them.

Nothing ever made me feel quite as pompous as when I heard someone talking about how cute Deidara was or how much they wished he would ask them out and I knew that he would be coming to my house that night to lay in my bed and talk to me and kiss me and stare at me like I was some miracle of nature.

"Oh, the irony." Itachi sighs, breaking me out of my thoughts rather rudely. I glance over at him, and I know what he's talking about. As much as we talk about not wanting a shallow, vapid, bleached blonde bimbo, there he was. Solid, incriminating proof that was _exactly_ what I wanted. Oh, the irony is right. But in my defense, the blonde is natural.

"What do you mean?" I play dumb, not wanting to hear the lecture. He turns to me, batting his eyelashes mockingly and putting a Valley Girl inflection in his voice for effect.

"Like, don't you want to come to our house, Sasori? It's gonna be totally far out!"

"You're coming too." I remind him, ignoring the jab.

"Only because I know without me there, you're either going to end up throwing up on yourself or just running out the door like a freak." He replied cooly. "You looked like a deer caught in the headlights of a Mack truck."

"I can't do this." I groan, pressing the palms of my hands into my eyes. "Itachi, look at him. He looks airbrushed."

"Spare me the tortured Romeo act. He's attractive, yes. But remember that he was the one who pursued you. And even now, he's the one who invited you to his home. He _wants_ you around."

"Us." I reiterate because I don't feel like I can handle this alone. He gives me an extremely patronizing look and pats my arm in reassurance.

When we arrive home, I look up the address online and realize they only live a few minutes from us. Fantastic. So if this visit doesn't go well, there is always a chance I will run into either one of them at the corner store or street.

I get in the shower and scrub my hair and body and try to scrub away the conflicted dread coursing through my body. I hate feeling insecure and confused, especially with something like this. I'm a dominant person, even slightly controlling sometimes. Not some anxious nutcase who can't even look at a guy without stuttering. Or at least, I don't want to be.

How can I ever hope to charm Deidara when I'm on the verge of freaking out in his presence? Then again, do I even want to charm him? I'm not entirely sure I even want to have romantic feelings right now (albeit that's not something I can control), least of all be in a serious relationship. Because if I actually (by some miracle) _do_ charm him, I may be setting myself up for disaster by being unable to have a normal courtship with him. And then it's going to be middle school all over again.

Regardless of if I'm sure I want to pursue this or not, I made a commitment to go there, and that's what I'll do. And if I'm paralyzed again, like a frightened deer in the headlights of his shimmering sapphire eyes, then so be it. Looking like an idiot in front of him is no less than I deserve.

I take a deep breath, willing the calmness into me, and breathing out my nerves. I can feel him staring at me, so I open one coppery brown eye at him. "What should I say?" I wonder out loud.

"Tell him you're glad to see him." Itachi suggests. He is sitting crosslegged on the floor, pulling things out of one of the many boxes scattered across our house. He's so serious and intent when he does something, it's almost funny to watch him. He will pull out an item, glare at it for a second, then put it in the pile designated for whatever room the item goes in. I should be helping him but I'm so nervous, I'm just stewing in my thoughts.

"But I don't know if that's true."

"Don't kid yourself, Sasori. You're practically creaming your pants over him."

I hate when he says shit like that to embarass me, because it always works. I don't know if it's because I have light skin and red hair, but I blush so easily and darkly, it's painfully obvious to everyone within a mile radius. And Itachi just thinks it's hilarious.

"Yeah, could you not say shit like that in front of him? Whether we end up going forward with this or not, I don't really want to go in the premature ejaculation direction."

"I'm sure you don't, but it happens." He answered smoothly. In moments like this, I really wish I hadn't stopped smoking.

Itachi doesn't bother to shower or change (and why would he, this is nothing but a joke to him) and we leave a few hours later, my stepbrother grumbling about what a dick Kisame is, and how he'd like to sock him one right in the mouth. I silently agree. But it's not exactly a shock to me that two of them don't get along. Kisame with his neat heaircut and lettermen jacket, and Itachi with his lip piercings on either side of his lower lip and holier-than-thou attitude. It suddenly occurs to me that this meeting of the four of us is a very, very bad idea. But it's too late because I'm already at his door, and my hand is knocking.

When the door slowly opens, he looks gorgeous and I instantly feel awkward and gawky.

"Wow, I can't believe you actually came." His voice is just a little cool, a little detached. His kewpie-doll mouth turns up in a little smirk, and I realize I am way out of my league here. But two can play at that studied, detached coolness.

"Of course." I deliberately matched his tone. "It wasn't hard to find time for an _old friend_." I say, purposely using his terminology from earlier.

I see something like hurt flash across his face just for a nanosecond, so fast I'm not sure if I imagined it, but I don't have time to dwell on it because he steps aside to let us in and leads us to their living room, where we all sit, Kisame sitting in a leather armchair, staring at us.

"Please excuse the mess, we're just moving in." Deidara whispers, glancing around unconcernedly. I remember how messy and unorganized he always was, so it comes as no surprise.

"We're just moving into an apartment as well." Itachi replies diplomatically, and I'm grateful for him trying not be such an asshole like he normally is.

"So, _Sasori_, what made you come back to Konoha?" Kisame asks, a mock cheerful smile on his face. He always says _Sasori_ with an inflection of superiority, making it sound like an inside joke rather than my name.

"Itachi and I wanted to give our parents time alone." I mumble, failing to meet his eyes across the room.

"Okay." He shrugs. "But that doesn't answer my question. What made you come back _here_?" He asks rudely, and tilts his head, waiting for my answer.

"Well, the hospitable inhabitants certainly didn't influence our decision, I can tell you that much." Itachi interjected, giving Kisame a withering look. Deidara's eyes dart between the two of them for a moment, then look back at me. And I can see a glimpse of the old Deidara, _my_ Deidara in the blue orbs. And just like I used to be able to, I can read the message in them loud and clear. _Should we say something?_

The beautiful blonde angel chews on his bottom lip (which I have to say looks extremely inviting; I would love to chew on it too) for a moment before clearing his throat. "Well, since you're new here, Itachi, and you were gone before this placed opened up, Sasori, I thought I would treat you guys to takeout from this really excellent chinese place."

Itachi looks visibly (and very uncharacteristically) surprised for a moment, before frowning slightly. "You're just a sweetheart, aren't you?" He asks softly, though not without an inflection of doubt. Deidara's answer is a lopsided grin, which just makes him more cute and endearing and I can tell just from my stepbrother's face that he can't help but consider liking the blonde. And I don't blame him - I can't think of anyone that doesn't like Deidara.

He calls the restaurant and orders a decent variety of things for us, which makes me feel kind of uncomfortable considering I have no idea what kind of financial situation he is in. I have a feeling Itachi doesn't like the idea either, though not out of concern for Deidara, but because he is very prideful.

"Hey, Deidara?" I address him directly for what I think is the first time since I got here.

"Yes?" He seems apprehensive, tentative to answer me. Which is a little strange, considering out of the two of us, he is undoubtedly the less shy and uncertain one. He was always infinitely more confident than me. It leaves me with the impression that he is unsure of me, and this meeting in general. I wonder if I should appease his worrying, or let it be.

"We can split it." I say firmly, and wait to see if he will argue with me. If I remember correctly. . .

"Okay, Sasori. If that's what you want." I do remember correctly; Deidara is just as submissive and agreeable as ever. The fact that it makes me more attracted to him gives me a fleeting touch of guilt, but it can't be helped. I love the idea of an obedient, accomodating partner. That's not necessarily a good thing since I'm not sure I _want_ more things to find attractive about him. But that can't be helped, either.

I'm suddenly overcome with an incredibly vivid memory from back then, and it burns across my brain like wildfire, leaving just burnt ashes.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

**Review!**


	4. Chapter 3

**Just realized now that I completely forgot about that weird noise Deidara makes when he talks. Whoops :/ Just, uh. . . Chalk it up to modern medicine or something, lulz. They can fix a deviated septum with minor surgery nowadays.**

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

*-*-* Third-Person Point of View *-*-*

_"Don't ever leave me." Deidara pulled back, harsh pants punctuating the end of his pleading sentence. His face was flushed, extranneous tendrils of blonde hair sticking to his damp forehead._

_ "I won't." The scorpion replied quickly before leaning down, forcing their lips back together, as if he couldn't stand the break for breath._

The words hadn't meant anything to him, Sasori realized with more than a twinge of guilt, and had carelessly assumed they hadn't really meant anything to the blonde, either. Just something tossed out in the heat of the moment. He had barely heard them through his lust-hazed stupor, and had answered automatically as if someone had asked him to solve a simple math equation, like 2+2. He put more thought into what he wanted to order at a fast food restaurant. He remembered staring into those cloudy sapphire marbles for a milisecond before capturing the male's pretty pink lips again.

_The same blue eyes, _he realized with a glance in Deidara's direction. And isn't that just what he had done? Left him? _But that was the right thing. _Sasori's mind voiced firmly. _We were only in middle school and he was already talking about love. I had to step back and give him a chance to see that there were way better guys for him than me. . . _ And though it was true that his father had uprooted him and moved without notice, it wouldn't have been difficult to get in contact with Deidara. He had purposely chosen not to, hoping to give the teen encouragement to date someone else. But even as he thought it, he knew it hadn't only been that. He had also been scared, terrified really, of rejection.

His feelings for Deidara had been growing more and more intense with each passing week, and although the blonde seemed smitten as well, he couldn't help but assume at least part of the appeal for the popular student was the fact that he, Sasori, was an outcast. What would happen when the taboo side of it went away? Would Deidara's feelings for him dissolve as well? Was this even real? Or just one of those summer flings like he saw in the movies? Was he making it into a more intense situation than it was? He remembered the hours he had sweated over these thoughts, imagining having to watch the blonde have a normal relationship with one of the other popular males, like Kiba or Sai. He wouldn't be able to handle it.

And now, looking at the blonde again, he remembered with agonizing clarity why he couldn't stand to imagine someone else's hands and mouth and claim on him.

"Sasori?" He heard an uncertain voice barely nudge past the sound barrier of his thoughts, bringing him back down to Earth.

"Hm?"

"I, um, asked if you wanted to go down with me to pick up the food. The delivery guy is here, and I think there's too much for me to carry in alone." Deidara asked, twirling a piece of hair around his finger.

"I'll go with you." Sasori answered instantly, standing in the same instant as Kisame, who frowned suspiciously.

"No, I'll go with you, Deidara. I can carry the heavy stuff." The shark said firmly, glaring down at the redhead, daring the scorpion to argue. Sasori visibly paled. Itachi's own obsidian eyes narrowed to slits, and he stood as well.

"I couldn't possibly let you go down to get the food after you've helped pay for it, Deidara." Itachi answered in a smooth voice Sasori didn't remember hearing very often. The eldest Uchiha stepped between the tall man and his stepbrother, in a subtle move only he and the shark noticed. And although he himself only came to Kisame's collarbone, intimidated was one of the last things that could have been used to describe how he looked.

And it was in that moment Sasori, with slight mortification, realized exactly what was happening here, or at least part of it. Kisame was fiercely protecting Deidara, and Itachi was protecting him. The two brunettes were like mama bears, protecting their fragile little cubs with claws and snarls. He didn't like being the cub in that equation, but was forced to admit that this wasn't the first time Itachi had assumed the protective role over him.

"I insist." Itachi's voice came out like silk, and he swiftly palmed the money Deidara had been holding in his hand. "Did you want change?" He asked the blonde pointedly, who shook his head slowly, eyes wide and darting between the black-haired male and his own roommate with a small grin on his face.

"No, tip's included." He answered, tucking the now twisted piece of hair behind his ear. He took his lower lip between his teeth to keep from letting out his laughter at Kisame's expression. "Thanks. That's uh, really nice of you."

"Think nothing of it." The weasel answered, opening the door and glancing at Kisame as if asking him if he was coming. The shark sighed, giving Sasori one last glare before following him out.

Once Deidara could hear their loud footsteps going down the concrete flight of stairs, he turned toward Sasori, wondering in horror for a moment if they would simply sit in silence while the other two were gone. He knew from experience that Sasori probably would not be the first one to say something, given their previous history together, especially. They eyed each other for a moment.

Sasori's mind was racing with anxiety and worry, wondering what he should say or do, if anything at all. Deidara, on the other hand, was certain he himself was going to say _something_, he was just unsure of exactly what would be appropriate. Certainly not some declaration of feelings or anything. . . After all, he was trying to put forward an image of a confident, sexy, well-adjusted person to the scorpion. Not a demented therapy patient who'd been holding a torch after 7 years.

"I'm taller than you." Deidara pointed out, smiling. They were still standing, and it was only a half-inch or so, but the thought was a little funny to the blonde. The redhead had always been the shortest in their grade.

"We're the same height." Sasori argued, frowning. The pretty male's grin widened, and he stepped forward so they were nearly face-to-face, illustrating the miniscule difference in height. Miniscule, but it did exist. "Whatever." The scorpion grumbled, backing away and rolling his brown eyes upward. "Like that's an a accomplishment. I'm 5'3 and a half." And since Deidara was about a half inch or so taller than him, he estimated the blonde to be about 5'4, which was still much shorter than average for a male. (**Author's note; Seriously, why are Sasori and Deidara so short? Gaara was born prematurely but even he is taller than both of them and he is younger than both of them! And the other Akatsuki members are pretty tall, it's just those two, singled out to be extremely short. . . /end ramble) **

"I know, that's why it's so funny. It's like we both have stunted growth." Deidara laughed a little. "I can't imagine what it would be like to be as tall as Kisa or Itachi."

"All those cigarettes and all that caffeine." The redhead suggested, though still not quite over the sting of being reminded how tiny he was. He had always been self-conscious about his height, and even now still had insecurities regarding it. The blonde being short was fine, but he was a seme, damn it, he was supposed to be tall!

"Oh, I remember that!" Sasori couldn't help but notice how beautiful Deidara looked when he was laughing. It's like his face was lighting up the whole room like sunshine. "I still smoke every once in awhile, socially. . . Or when I get nervous." He added thoughtfully. "I've actually been thinking about quitting. Kisa nags me about it pretty much daily."

"I was thinking about quitting, too." The words tumbled out of Sasori's mouth before he could stop them or think of anything else to say. In reality, he _had_ thought about it once or twice, but not substantially made a decision. But the overwhelming need to keep conversing with the blonde was making him desperate for almost any topic of conversation.

"Oh, yeah?" Deidara asked curiously, but his heartbeat sped up in excitement. "Well it's supposed to be a real pain in the ass. Maybe it will be easier in pairs." He suggested, shrugging, slipping his fingers through his hair.

"Pairs?" He asked doubtfully.

"Yeah. We could be, like, moral support for each other. You know what I mean?" He paused, glancing downward. "I mean, unless you don't want to hang out after this. It's okay, I understand." _Moral support? _Deidara's mind scoffed. _There's nothing moral about the kind of 'support' you're wanting._

"No!" Sasori denied quickly, shaking his head. Deidara looked visibly startled for a moment at the quiet, reserved scorpion's outburst. Sasori cleared his throat, feeling a telltale blush begin to creep over his cheeks. _Damn it._ "I mean, um. . . That's a really good idea. I really want to quit so it sounds helpful to do it with someone else." Both ignored the obvious innuendo of 'doing it with someone else', but it didn't exactly help the coloring of the redhead's face.

"Okay, great." Deidara wrote his cell phone number on a piece of paper with unnecessary care, then handed it to Sasori, who stuffed it in his pocket just as Kisame burst through the door, several take-out boxes balanced precariously in his arms. They both jerked guiltily, Sasori's hand flying out of his pocket. Kisame growled, his chocolate eyes radiating suspicion. Before he could say anything, however, Itachi's body appeared in the doorway. He was panting just slightly, and it was obvious Kisame had rushed back up to make sure nothing was going on in his absence.

_What an animal_, Itachi thought wryly, before stepping in and closing the door behind him gracefully with his foot. "Do you want this on the dining room table?" He asked politely, and Deidara nodded, taking one of the trays from the weasel.

"Thanks again." He said, avoiding the shark's eyes as he began taking plates out of a cupboard in the kitchen. "This is some of the best food I've had here in Konoha, and the owners are really nice."

"Oh, do you know them personally?" The elder Uchiha asked conversationally, but his mind truly wasn't on the conversation. He knew Sasori well enough to know his body language indicated guilt and nerves, more so than when they had left. What happened here in he and the barbarian's absence?

"Yeah, Kisa and I went to school with their son. Well, Sasori, too but I don't know if you remember him." He frowned a little, trying to remember. "I think he moved here in eighth grade, so you would have only known him for a short time."

"Chouji Akimichi." Kisame supplied helpfully, taking a seat. He shoved a fork into one of the boxes and began piling noodles onto his plate. _The other fat guy, _he thought rudely, but even the shark was prudent enough to neglect from mentioning it.

"Well, help yourselves." The blonde chirped happily, setting the plates and silverware on the table in front of his guests.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

After exchanging awkward goodbyes, the four of them eyeing each other apprehensively, Itachi and Sasori let themselves out.

"Ugh, I'm so full." Sasori complained. "But it was so good."

"You ate enough for three people." Itachi pointed out unsympathetically. Sasori started to throw an insult back at him, before groaning.

"Damn it!"

"What is it now?"

"I left the car keys up there. I took them out of my pocket and they're on the table." Sasori glanced back up the long flight of stairs, his hand immediately raising to rub at his uncomfortably full stomach. He glanced back at Itachi, whose eyes raised to the twinkling night sky.

"Just go wait at the car, I'll get them." He heaved a soft sigh, turning on his heel and heading back up the stairs. "But you owe me for this whole damn night."

"I know." Sasori whispered, but his stepbrother was long gone. Ordinarily, he didn't like feeling like he was in someone else's debt but Itachi was a special case. And there had been plenty of times that he had helped the brunette out, so it was fair game. Itachi sure didn't like Kisame, he mused, tromping sluggishly back to their car. But he had put up with all of it, just to give the scorpion a chance at . . . Whatever this was, he supposed. He wasn't even sure yet. But he was sure of one thing - He had the beautiful blonde's number and permission to text or call. He wondered if he would actually have to quit smoking now. Probably, or it would seem a little desperate that he had said he wanted to. Like a girl pretending to like the new action flick just to impress her crush and make her seem relatable. _You're thinking too much_, Sasori scolded himself. _Just text him. _Wait, wasn't there a three day rule on texting the person you like after getting their number? "Damn it." The redhead growled, pressing his palms into his eyes again.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Deidara yawned hugely, having just put away the last food container in the fridge. "I'm going to bed, Kisa." He said. He _was_ exhausted, but he also was not in the mood for the shark's third-degree interrogation that he knew was due to come. Maybe he'd be more up for it in the morning, though he doubted it. He certainly wasn't ready for the lecture he knew he would recieve, about self-preservation, and putting himself in the position to be hurt again. And in some dim, deep part of his mind, he absolutely knew the shark was right. But it couldn't hurt just to _talk_ to Sasori, right?

"Alright." He said cheerfully, but Deidara wasn't fooled by the cheerful tone. He knew when the man was annoyed. "I'm going to jump in the shower and then head to bed, too. Pre-season practice tomorrow, you know."

"Good luck." The blonde sent him an encouraging smile before closing himself in his bedroom.

"Don't need it." Kisame mumbled under his breath, before gripping the bottom of his shirt and lifting it over his head. His confidence when it came to football knew no bounds, and to say he had an ego was a huge understatement. But he did appreciate the sentiment of being wished good luck, and he had always loved the fact that while the towheaded male knew next to nothing about football and wasn't really interested in the sport, he made it a point to be at all of Kisa's games, except when he had work. After unzipping his jeans, he tossed them and his shirt over the back of the couch. Modesty was not exactly something he embraced, and oftentimes he walked around in the house in nothing but his boxers, so it was nothing new for him to do so now, especially when he was about to take a shower.

The entrance door opened so swiftly, the flash of cream-colored skin accented by hair and eyes so dark they were like sparkling onyx showed in his peripherals before he even turned around.

". . . Sasori left his keys up here." Itachi offered, after a long pause. In some deep, dim part of his mind he was glad he didn't share the same embarassing trait as Sasori - Blushing easily.

Kisame shrugged, and waved his hand toward the table where the keys lay. Smirking at the way the way the arrogant Uchiha couldn't quite meet his eyes, he hooked his thumbs into the elastic waistband of his plaid boxers and leaned against the wall, waiting. "Help yourself."

"Thanks." Itachi mirrored the shark's indifferent shrug before moving across the room and swiping the car keys off the table. Twirling the ring around his pointer finger, he turned and let his eyes sweep up from the man's feet, all the way up his muscular torso and chest to his face, where the brown eyes only registered a small amount of shock before reverting back to their studied coolness.

"Is that _all_ you wanted?" Kisame asked pointedly, giving the attractive male a polite smile. Their eyes met and stayed locked, and the challenge in them was more than clear.

"Are you trying to play a game with me?" Itachi mused, raising an eyebrow. "Because if you are, I feel I should warn you that I'm _very_ competitive."

"I don't know what you're talking about." The shark replied lightly. "But you know, if you knocked like a normal person, you wouldn't walk in on anything you don't want to see."

"Well, I certainly learned my lesson. I don't think I could stand any more of this cruel and unusual punishment. Unless you had something else to show me?" Kisame's laugh barked out, and before he could say another word, the weasel made a small noise in his throat. "And, I believe that's my point. Think you can keep up?"

"I get it." Kisame's smile showed his sharp teeth to their best advantage, his eyes sparkling. "Consider your challenge accepted."

"Enjoy your shower." Itachi suggested, giving him one last look over his shoulder.

"Thanks. I think I'll be making it a cold one." Kisame replied good-naturedly. Itachi's laugh echoed before the door shut with a snap. "What a freak." He decided, shaking his head, but his grin was wide. "But a hot one."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"Finally!" Sasori complained, catching the metallic keys in his hands easily when they were tossed to him. "Something wrong?" He asked, tilting his head. "You look a little flustered."

"Please. I don't get _flustered._" The Uchiha sneered. "You're seeing things."

"Maybe." Sasori said agreeably, more than happy to let it drop. "Probably just a trick of the light."

"Hm." Itachi only grunted in response, but he couldn't help but glance up at the window to Deidara and Kisame's apartment, visualizing exactly what was going on behind it.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

**There you go, a prelude to KisaIta and a little more SasoDei development. Review! And let me know if you have any predictions or plot suggestions or anything like that ~**


End file.
